Pitiless Power

Horrendous wind, driving rain, this is the approaching hurricane. They give them names these storms, to make them like a woman scorned. They drive across the oceans so wide, gathering strength for the shores they collide. Hitting the land like a hammer hits glass, People hiding, waiting and hoping it will pass. Boats in the harbors homes by the shore, take all the hatred, it shakes to the core. All smashed to oblivion as havoc is wreaked, Then folk from their shelters start to creep, To find if there's anything left to keep. Homes demolished, cars beyond repair, people can only show a look of despair. Trying to salvage whatever they may, from the devastation the storm left today. They live in the path called hurricane alley. Nowhere else to go so they hope for the best, Next year the storms may give them a rest. © Dave Timperley 20 October 2016 Just been reading about the aftermath of Hurricane Matthew and penned this.